


It Started with an Egg

by BookshopLaura



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Magic Reveal, an egg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-06 22:08:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 10,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1874274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookshopLaura/pseuds/BookshopLaura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin might have been cursed and it's probably the strangest curse he's ever been cursed with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It started with an egg. Well no, to make sense we must go back to before the egg, or at least before Arthur met the egg. Because the fact that it had been laid by a rather shabby, if rather otherwise ordinary chicken in a shabby, if ordinary chicken coop is neither here nor there. Arthur saw neither the chicken nor the coop, and never wished to. What he did see was a young boy dressed in what he considered traditional peasant clothing; brown shirt, brown trousers, well worn boots, standing before him. He was fiddling with a hat in front of him and looking with great determination at the tip of his boots. 

"You have come with a request?" asks Arthur after a moment, raising an eyebrow. He glances at Merlin who is smirking and rolling his eyes. People who are awed by Arthur's presence amuse him. Probably because Merlin has never felt such need to stand on ceremony. Arthur should find that frustrating, but instead he finds it refreshing. And frankly he's a little impatient at this boys awestruck silence. It's just before lunch and really he'd prefer it if the boy wasn't here and he was upstairs digging into some cold ham and trading insults with Merlin. 

"My village sent me. I'm... I'm from Pernrith. There's a... an old crone who lives a few miles from the village on her own. She's a witch and she made the crops fail and poisoned the water in the river."

Arthur closes his eyes in annoyance.

"You have proof I assume." he asks, looking up at the boy who can't be any more than eleven. He's going to have to have stern words with the village leaders.

"She told me she was a witch herself. Then she cursed me. She told me my hair would fall out. And it has." Arthur looks pointedly up at the boys head, which looks like a perfectly respectable if unkempt mop, then down at him again.

"You appear to have a full head of hair." states Arthur blandly.

"I do now, it it grew back, but it was falling out in clumps! And she made thunder and lightening which set fire to one of the barns with the harvest in! We saw her watching across the field. We saw her standing in the rain watching." Arthur took a deep breath. He glanced at Merlin and one look at Merlin's frown and the set of his mouth was enough to tell Arthur what he thought. 

"I will travel to Pernrith myself in two days time, and I will see this 'witch' myself. If...IF she is as you say she is, then she will be punished accordingly." Arthur can almost feel Merlin's disagreement, but the boy smiles and thanks Arthur over and over before practically running from the hall. 

"Arthur, this is ridiculous. It's all just hearsay and coincidence. She's probably just..."

"Probably just some harmless old fool who is nobody likes who lives out of the way and yells at annoying kids. Yes I know. I have no intention of burning anyone based on what I've just heard." Interrupts Arthur, meeting Merlin's eye. A little of the fight leaves Merlin's eyes, but not all.

"Then what will you do?" 

"I'll make a point of it. We will go out, with a couple of knights, and we will meet with her. When she turns out to be the harmless if annoying old croon I expect her to be, then we will return to the village and make it clear that they aren't to blame their bad luck on helpless old women any more. And they are not to waste my time with this again, or send children to report it." Merlin smiles at that, and Arthur decides it's finally time for lunch.

\---

Except that three days later things do not turn out exactly as planned. Arthur and Merlin, joined for the look of it, with Gwaine and Percival take only a few hours to get to the Pernrith, and then only half an hour by horse to the cottage they are directed to. It's more of a hovel, clearly about to collapse into the woodland leaf litter. It's tiles are buried deep in moss except the hole that sits nicely in the middle and is apparently serving as a replacement for the chimney. Smoke is billowing out of it, although nothing seems to coming out of what was presumably once a chimney. Arthur raps loudly on the door with the hilt of his sword.

"Open in the name of the king!" he says loudly.

"Arthur! Don't scare her! She's probably a scared old lady!" says Merlin, just as the door swings violently open.

"Whose there?" demands a loud voice. It's difficult to accept that the booming croaking voice they heard came from such a small, pale, fragile looking body but there is no one else there. She's clearly over eighty, her hair is a mess, bits of leaves and moss are stuck in it. Her dress is incredibly worn and very dirty, one has what looks like a couple of eggs in and she hobbles about slowly. Her eyes are screwed tightly and her nose pursed as she squints to see whose there, pointing a walking stick in front of her.

"Whose there? I bet it's that young blacksmiths boy again! Come to steal my knitting! And scare my chickens, won't you!" she says hobbling forward a little.

"I am Arthur, king of Camelot." says Arthur loudly. 

"No you aren't, your the blacksmiths boy!" she says stepping forward to prod Arthur with her walking stick. Of all the foes Arthur's fought, he's never been so unsure how to fight back and so he ends up tripping over a root and falling onto his backside. 

"I am the king of Camelot!" he cries, realising he sounds like a child. Merlin has the audacity to laugh at him, but suddenly the old woman is turning on him. And her face is terrible. Merlin can't tell if she's grimacing or smiling. 

"You're the peasant boy who steals my eggs!" 

"What? No!" says Merlin, moving away from her. 

"Yes you are! You want an egg don't you! You want all the eggs! Here take an egg!" she fishes with her bony hand into her pocket and throws an eggs awkwardly at Merlin. He catches it, by some miracle and looks at her awkwardly. Maybe he wasn't meant to catch it.

"Caught it did you? Well good for you! Cos I cursed it! And if that egg ever breaks you'll die! Just like that you will! Now leave me be!" With that she turns and hobbles back into the hovel and slams the door. 

Merlin looks down at the egg in his hand and then at Arthur. 

"Well she did just curse you, so I guess that proves it." says Gwaine lightly. 

"That wasn't magic, that was some old woman whose lost her marbles." says Arthur rolling his eyes but he regards the egg nervously as they turn to head back to the village.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur is watching the egg rather intently. He has been the whole ride home. Even when he'd been lecturing the village elders about not taking the mad ravings of crippled old women seriously, he'd kept an eye on where he could see the outline of the egg in Merlin's pocket. He realised the irony of his own actions, realised his own hypocrisy in telling the elders to ignore his threats when he felt his heart rate increase every time Merlin's arm fell too close to his pocket or his horse stepped just a little awkwardly on the rough road beneath them. 

"It's just an egg, Arthur." says Merlin. When Arthur glances up at him, he has a fond yet humoured look on his face. As if he's been doing something that Merlin finds entertaining.

"I know... but what if it's true. What if she has cursed it?" Merlin raises an eyebrow which clearly shows his opinion of Arthur's well founded fear. 

"She might have!" says Arthur, but even he can hear the whining in his own voice.

"Arthur, you saw her. She's ancient, and she can barely look after herself. She mistook you for a blacksmiths child and accused you of coveting her knitwear! She's clearly a whole basket of food short of a picnic and enjoys threatening people to leave her alone! That's not a sorceress that's just a miserable, paranoid old woman." Arthur breaths a sigh of acceptance then adds.

"But she could be a miserable, paranoid, mad old sorceress." he adds, raising both his eyebrows at Merlin. Merlin's own raised eyebrows show his disdain, and he looks away without dignifying it with a reply. After a moment silence and a couple of side glances at the egg, Arthur asks.

"What are you going to do with it?" 

"With what?" 

"The egg, Merlin!" says Arthur obviously. Merlin's eyebrows question Arthur's sanity in asking, then he turns back to face the road again. 

"I'll probably have it for breakfast tomorrow. Nice boiled egg." he says smiling. 

"Merlin." Merlin turns to see Arthur glaring at him, his brows down threateningly. Then after a moment he holds out his hand in front of Merlin. Merlin grits his teeth and rolls his eyes and looks at Arthur.

"Really?" 

"Merlin." 

"No, honestly? You're going to look after an egg because some old woman threw a hissy fit about you knocking on her door?" 

"I'm not taking any chances, Merlin. Now give me the egg." 

Merlin reaches into his pocket and plucks out the egg. Then he tosses it to Arthur. For a second the world seems to slow down as it arches into the sky then falls into Arthur's waiting hand. It sits there for a second as Arthur just looks at his. His heart is beating madly and he looks up Merlin, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"Don't be so careless! You could have died!" 

"Oh dear Lord. Arthur! It's just an Egg!" Merlin spurs his horse to walk a little faster, turning to glare at Arthur before he's a few steps ahead. Arthur feels a little embarassed, but holds the egg carefully in his upturned palm the rest of the way home. 

\---

In his chambers he finds himself hunting around. He needs to keep the egg safe, so that it never cracks. It is lying on his bed as he hunts around in a cupboard. 

"What are you doing?" asks Merlin, coming in carrying a pile of newly washed laundry. He dumps it on the bed, just as Arthur reappears holding a small trinket box. 

"Merlin!" moans Arthur, running to the bed. Underneath a couple of shirts the egg is unscathed. He lifts it up carefully and places it in the box, ignoring the irritated looks he's getting from Merlin. but it wobbles and knocks about in the empty wooden box, so he grabs one of Merlin's newly cleaned shirts and rips a strip off of the bottom.

"Arthur!" He ignores in in favour of ripping the piece into a number of smaller pieces and carefully lining the box and it's lid so that the egg fits snugly but not too tightly within. Then he holds up the box triumphantly and smiles inanely at Merlin. Merlin whose wearing his not very amused at something that Arthur's done face.

"I don't know why you're frowning, this is for your benefit!" he says prodding Merlin in the shoulder. 

"Are you finished now?" asks Merlin, his lips tightly pursed.

"Yes" says Arthur.

"Good." says Merlin before Arthur can elaborate, grabs the box from his hands and takes it and shoves it as far back into the cupboard as he can.

"Now forget about it. It's just an egg!" 

Arthur holds his hands up in feigned surrender, but smiles as Merlin walks away. 

But two days later he can't resist the urge to check that the egg is okay.


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur tells himself it isn't a problem. It's just being sensible, maybe a little overcautious but nothing more. Even as he waits to hear the click of the lock that signals that Merlin has actually, officially and absolutely left his room for the night. Even as he creeps out of bed like a thief and steels across the room to the cabinet where the egg is securely kept. Just as it has been for the last month. Carefully he undoes the box, delicately peeling back the material that surrounds it and lifting it gently into his hand. He only has the light of the candle he brought from by his head, so he holds the egg close to it and turns it around in his hand to check for cracks or marks. As usual the egg is unblemished. He breathes a small sigh of relief. Very carefully he lays it back in it's box and replaces the box in the cupboard so that Merlin won't be able to tell he's moved it. Because Merlin would just laugh at him for this, but then Merlin has always been known to be reckless with his own life. Reassured, Arthur heads to bed.

\---

But the next day brings a new challenge. Bandits have been raiding villages near the edge of the forest and Arthur knows that the best remedy is a show of force. He's already been gathering information on the ringleaders, but until he has more credible evidence he must do what he can. And what he must do is march a band of knights to the area of the forest where he knows the bandits to be prevalent and thoroughly search the area. Hopefully that will be enough to put them off attacking the villages until he can deal with them more rigorously. That in itself is not a challenge. Arthur is a military man, commanding men and camping in a forest a both second nature to him. Having Merlin come along and moan the whole way is entirely to be expected.

But the egg presents a problem. They are supposed to be carrying as little as possible and the box is quite awkward, rather large for a camp they'll have to carry on horseback. And he'll be fighting raiders and riding all day. There's every chance that the egg could be damaged. But then that leaves leaving it here. The likelihood is that it'll be fine. Merlin is his manservant and he will be with Arthur in the forest. But then there's George. George who most distinctly isn't his manservant. In the way he actually does his job and does it far to well and smiles when Arthur knows he's not happy. In every way he is both the perfect manservant and the very worst manservant. And he has a terrible habit every now and then, when Merlin and Arthur are away together, of really thoroughly cleaning Arthur's chambers. Because apparently Merlin isn't rigorous enough. Arthur tries to dissuade him from it, he can see the way George's intrusion grates on Merlin. But he has to admit the man is thorough. All the linen will be rewashed, all his clothing and bed clothes too. Everything will be dusted to perfection and every corner swept clean. If George were to find an egg wrapped up in a box? He might send it to the kitchen, or simply throw it away. 

An image appears of Arthur in the midst of a band of raiders. He's just taken out the leader and the others are fleeing. He's turned to face Merlin, whose just walking over to him, smiling at their success, when his face pales and he drops to the floor dead. Arthur feels his own stomach drop at the thought. And all because George likes things to be clean. No, the egg is better off with him to protect it. So he carefully wraps the box in his camp roll, and ties it to his horse. 

\---

The day has been productive. It turns out that the bandits they've encountered weren't prepared for any resistance, and one look at the knights in their shinning armour, armed with newly sharpened swords, had them melting back into the forest. Obviously they might regroup, so Arthur decides to pursue them deeper into forest to make the point. They've made camp for the knight, eaten a light supper and Arthur has just ordered Elyan and Percival to do the first watch. Then he goes to lay his camp roll. Without thinking he unrolls it like he usually does, putting it on the ground and pushing it to unroll. 

"Damn!" he says quietly when he remembers the box. Merlin, who is sat fiddling in his small satchel for something, turns to frown at him. His eyes light on the box, and his face takes on this exasperated look it does when Arthur is being particularly pratish. Except that he isn't. 

"Arthur, why have you got that?" Arthur is picking it up carefully and setting it properly on it's base. He smiles a weak slightly guilty but not really ashamed smile at Merlin, then carefully lifts the lid. 

"Arthur, it's just an egg!"

"You can't know that!" says Arthur, but quietly. He doesn't want to knights to get involved in this. 

"You know what? You're right! She was a sorceress. And she's put a curse on you so that you thinking cracking an egg will kill me!" says Merlin indignantly. Arthur looks quickly over the egg. It seems fine. Merlin goes to grab it, but Arthur pulls it away quickly, then replaces it in the box. Rolling his eyes, Merlin lays down and turns over to face away from Arthur. Arthur frowns slightly, but doesn't say anything. He sleeps with the box under his arm all night. And it is still there in the morning, when Arthur is woken by the shouts of Gwaine and Leon. The bandits are attacking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next instalment, the egg gets broken.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur would be impressed with his own speed in getting from fully horizontal to ready to fight, if he'd had time to think of anything other than the fact that they were under attack. He's wearing armour, but he doesn't have a shield and he only just has time to grab his sword before he has to bring it up to block the sword of a band who must be at least 6ft 5" and wields a sword like an executioner wields an axe. He's covered in leather and chain mail and catches Arthur off balance, but Arthur recovers and for what seems like an eternity he can't think in anything but movement. Parrying, blocking, attacking, dodging. He feels like he's winning the fight when suddenly he dodges another of the bandits chopping attacks. It slices through thin air and down onto the ground. Into a small wooden box. For a moment Arthur doesn't realise, but when he does he freezes, his eyes large and shocked where the box's lid is split badly in half. He's so shocked that he forgets the bandit he's been fighting.

"Arthur!" Merlin's voice cuts through the shock. It's worried and very much alive. He glances round just in time to see his attacker pause. He's heard Merlin close by and turned to confront him. Merlin, who is dressed only in his usual servants clothes, armed with nothing but a sword that Arthur knows he's incapable of wielding with any ability and a lot of bravado. As the man turns Arthur takes his opportunity and knocks him out with the flat of his sword to the back of the man's head. 

"Thanks" he mutters to Merlin.

"Why did you stop?" asks Merlin, his brow furrowed in honest concern. 

"I... it doesn't matter." says Arthur, but then Merlin's eyes fall on the box, with the badly damaged lid.

"You nearly died because of an egg!" Merlin looks like he could murder someone, probably Arthur.

"Merlin..."

"No, don't. It's gone now anyway." says Merlin, who turns to survey the knights as they begin to tie up those bandits who have survived the attack. The knights had been outnumbered, but only just. And they had clearly, except the odd exception, been far better trained than the attackers. Merlin rolls his eyes at Arthur, then walks away. Arthur bends down and looks at the box. It was a shame, it had been well made. He carefully lifts the broken lid off, then peels back the layers of material he had wrapped around it. It's intact. By some miracle the egg has survived. He glances around to check the Merlin can't see him, then wraps the egg back in it's padding, and wraps it in his bed roll.

\---

That night they stay in the nearest village. They are having to walk those bandits who have survived back to Camelot to face trial, so the journey will take a couple of days. The villagers, thankful to the knights, have offered them food and lodgings for the night. A local nobleman has even given up his bed so that Arthur can stay there. Merlin takes up his usual place to ready him for bed. 

Arthur has left the bundle on the side of a cabinet, and as Merlin dresses him he wonders if maybe it is a little precariously balanced. 

"Are you alright?" asks Merlin, his eyes searching Arthur. Defensively Arthur drags his eyes away from the egg. 

"Yes, of course... Just a little uneasy throwing a man out of his own bed." Merlin smiles understandingly at Arthur.

"He hasn't got much. A small bit of land and a title, that's about it."

"I know, but he just wants to show his gratitude."

"It feels like an imposition."

"Arthur, they killed his son, and nearly his daughter too. He wants to show his gratitude."

"I know, but it shouldn't have got that far."

"You couldn't have predicted that. But you can bring them to justice. He recognises the man who killed his son. We can give him justice." Arthur smiles slightly. of course Merlin is right. But as Merlin returns to knots in Arthur's Gambeson, Arthur's eyes returned to the bed roll on the side. He feels Merlin pause then straighten up. He turns to look at Merlin guiltily. 

"That egg is still in there, isn't it?" says Merlin gritting his teeth. 

"No." says Arthur, but he can feel his cheeks burning and the way Merlin's nostrils flare and the way he blinks tells him Merlin knows too. Especially when Merlin walks over to the bed roll, picks it up, carries it to the bed and unrolls it. There, in the midst of the material is the egg, still in tact. For a moment Merlin merely looks at it, but then he turns around, looking at Arthur seriously. 

"Arthur, this has gone too far. You almost got killed today because of that damn egg. It's just an egg. Believe me, Arthur. I would know if it was magic!" 

"You can't be sure, Merlin!" says Arthur raising his voice, but then Merlin is raising his in return.

"I would Arthur. I have magic, I think I'd know if that was anything other than..." Merlin trails off and pales.

"What are you talking about?" Arthur watches him. That's just ridiculous. Why would Merlin say that?

"If that's meant to convince me..."

"Arthur, I..." Merlin looks really pale, and he's not meeting Arthur's eyes, and now Arthur's heart is hammering.

"Light the fire." says Arthur. Merlin turns round to start fumbling with their packs.

"With magic, Merlin." says Arthur calmly. Too calmly. Merlin turns back, his eyes are wide and uncertain. They're watching Arthur with utter panic, asking him if it's what he really wants. Merlin steps forward, then turns to look at the dark, cold grate. He raises his hand and mutters something that Arthur can't understand. Then Arthur sees his eyes burn gold. It's only for a moment, but it was there. Merlin turns back to look at Arthur, pleading. He can't stand it. He feels betray, hurt, even afraid. He walks over to the bed, picks up the egg and then, holding it in front of him so that Merlin can see it, he crushes it.


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur immediately regrets his decision. It isn't just the way the egg shells are digging into his hand, and he's sure he's cut something. It isn't even the overpowering smell of rotten egg which is now filling the room. Merlin's face has paled, his eyes focussed on Arthur fist only inches from his face. 

'He's going to die. He's going to just drop down dead.' Thinks Arthur. He shouldn't care, it shouldn't matter if a sorcerer dies or not. But Merlin doesn't drop, he stays still, staring at Arthur's hand and the disgusting contents now leaking out between his fingers and dripping onto the floor. Arthur's not sure what to do with it now that it's crushed, either. But he doesn't do anything for a moment longer. Because Merlin is just standing there, looking like the world has ended and he needs to know, desperately needs to know if Merlin is going to die. If he has killed Merlin. The thought stings Arthur, but Merlin is still standing, breathing. He blinks a little then turns to look away from Arthur, like he's dazed. Like he's going to cry. 

Arthur grabs the material from the bed and wipes his hand on it as best he can. Merlin is not dead, and Merlin is a sorcerer and has lied to Arthur the whole time he has known him. He should hate him, should call some of the knights and have him bound with the bandits, marched back like the bandits, put on trial like the bandits. He's a traitor, that's all there is to it. Except that when Arthur glances back to look at him he looks like Arthur's just stabbed him in the heart. Arthur finishes scrubbing his hand then pushes the dirty piece of cloth into Merlin's arms and says 

"Get rid of this. Then get some sleep." For a moment Merlin merely stares down at it like Arthur has pushed the corpse of a baby into his hands. When he finally manages to drag his eyes up, not quite meeting Arthur's, he asks.

"What do you plan to..."

"You have no right to ask that!" says Arthur angrily. Because right now Merlin is both his most hated enemy and his closest friend. And he can't stand it. Merlin's head drops.

"Did... will I wake you in the morning... or did you want..?"

"You will serve me, in the morning." says Arthur matter of factly. "After that... I don't know." He sees the fear flicker in Merlin's eyes and wonders what possibilities Merlin is considering. Only then does it occur to him that 'I don't know' could be execution in Merlin's mind. And now it's not only Merlin dropping dead from the curse that is filling his mind. But Merlin tied to a pyre, Merlin with a rope around his neck, Merlin with his head over a block. And despite what he's done, and not because of the smell, Arthur feels sick. 

"Go." he says, before Merlin can see how close he is to crying.

\---

The night is long. It feels like the night his father died. And he remembers how Merlin had been waiting. Not because he was Arthur's servant. But because he is was his friend and didn't want him to be alone. Arthur's thoughts are tumultuous. They swing from hate and anger to fear and worry within seconds. Merlin has lied, Merlin has hidden from fear, Merlin has manipulated, what else does he know? But after hours of thinking and thinking nothing but horrible, lonely, shattered thoughts, Arthur's mind returns to the curse. To the egg. The egg is gone, though the smell remains, especially on his right hand, which he keeps bringing to his face as he cries and rubs his face in worry. What if the curse is not immediate? What if the death it inflictss takes time? What if, right now, Merlin is lying in the nearby barn, dying in the belief that Arthur hates him? Arthur can't help sitting bolt upright, can't help the sob that breaks and can't help his hand from coming to his mouth despite the smell. Merlin might already be dead, it might already be too late. Suddenly Arthur is shaking all over. He's desperate, frantic. The need to know whether Merlin is alive or dead overwhelms all other feeling. For a moment he tries to force it down, to force himself not to care, but he can't. 

He climbs out of bed as quietly as he can and creeps downstairs. Leaving by a back door, he sneaks round and spots Gwaine on watch. The moon is out brightly, Gwaine is sitting with his sword ready across his lap, by a fire that lights the whole courtyard It must be between 1am and 3am. Gwaine is sittinging in the way of the stable where Merlin is sleeping. The bandits are in the barn across the way, two others will be on guard in there. Arthur, looks around desperately for another way in, but there is only one stable door and it's directly behind Gwaine. He's just about to give up and walk out, to hell with the consequences, when Gwaine gets up to stretch his legs, then disappears around a corner, no doubt to relieve himself. Arthur grabs his opportunity and steals silently across the courtyard and into the stable.


	6. Chapter 6

The stable is dark. Really dark. He can see faint moonlight coming in through two windows, giving him a faint outline of the wall in two places. But everything else is a bottomless pit, including the floor he is treading on. He pauses. He can hear the rustle of a couple of horses. Only a couple, the noble isn't rich. He can smell stable, horse manure and hay and horse. In the quiet his own breathing sounds heavy and laboured. His own footsteps sound blundering and obvious. 

He reaches his hands forward blindly. His left hand skims the rough wood of one of the stalls and he latches onto that, stepping forward. He hears his own feet rustle in the hay. With both hands he slowly moves forward. He can hear a horse in the first stall, so assumes Merlin won't be there. In the next stall too he can hear the swish of a tail and the unmistakeable breathing of a horse. There's only one stall left. He feels his way over too it and gently opens the door.

There is a window set high up above this stall. In the pale moonlight he can just about make out the silhouette of a figure lying in the hay. Curled up on it's side. He pauses. He can't hear any breathing, any movement. He waits a little longer, but still he hears nothing and his own heart betrays him. He could be standing here looking at a corpse. Merlin could already be dead. For a moment he thinks it would solve a lot of problems. His hands fist instinctively and he grits his teeth, because thinking of life without Merlin suddenly feels like an arrow through the chest. Like losing Merlin would burn a hole in his chest. And as he looks down at the dark silhouette on the ground, he knows his life would look like this. Dark, colourless, with a huge Merlin shaped hole. 

Wiping his eyes with his cuff, he kneels down and carefully creeps forward, until he's just in front of Merlin. He raises his hand and holds it just above Merlin, uncertain for a moment. He lowers it just enough to touch merlin's skin. It feels like Merlin's neck. It's warm and he's just about to check for a pulse when suddenly he's on his back and Merlin's on top of him, very much alive. His hands seem to be everywhere, one minute pinning Arthur's hands, then on his throat, covering his mouth. And he's shouting to Gwaine for help. 

Arthur manages to twist his mouth away from Merlin's hand.

"Merlin! It's me!" he says desperately. Merlin immediately stills above him. His hands still hold Arthur's in an icy grip. He jumps a little when the door to the stable swings open, the light from Gwaine's torch flooding the scene. Merlin's face is pale and he's looking up and to the side, then glancing back towards Arthur, but not meeting his eyes. He looks scared, confused. Gwaine's running slows to a halt. Arthur can't see him, he's hidden behind Merlin. There's a long pause.

"Are you alright Merlin?" asks Gwaine, uncertainly. 

"Everything's fine, Gwaine." says Arthur, wishing him away with all his will. 

"Oh Ohhhh. Oh sorry Sire, Merlin. I thought someone was being attacked. I didn't realise..." Arthur suddenly reddens in realisation. Merlin is sat right on top of him, still pinning his arms. Merlin must realise too, because suddenly he's let go of Arthur's arms and is climbing off of him. He's looking down though, his brow furrowed. Gwaine doesn't seem to notice. Mainly because it's dark and Merlin is facing away from him. 

"Gwaine... Nothing is happening here. I... I just wanted to speak to Merlin. I... surprised him. Please, don't speak of this to anyone." Gwaine is smirking at Arthur's pauses. But he turns to leave. 

"Do you want me to leave the torch?" he asks, grinning one last time.

"Out!" says Arthur.

When he's gone, Arthur lies there for a moment in the darkness. Merlin doesn't move either. 

"So, now all the knights will think we're lovers" says Merlin. But it sounds hollow. 

"I'm... I'm sorry I scared you." says Arthur. Merlin is silent. There's so much more Arthur wants to say. How he's sorry about the egg, sorry about Merlin needing to hide his magic. But now that his worry for Merlin's safety has been relieved his anger and upset is returning too. Merlin has lied to him, has betrayed him. And now he can let it build without the fear of losing Merlin completely. So Arthur pushes himself up to standing and walks past Merlin. He pauses by the door to the stall. Glances back, then walks out.


	7. Chapter 7

The ride back to Camelot is long and uneventful. Arthur isn't talking to Merlin and worse than that, Merlin isn't doing anything about it. Merlin who usually has an opinion on everything and is the first to tell Arthur if he thinks he's being stupid. Not that Arthur is being stupid or that Merlin has a right to insist on anything, but it's what he usually does. And he's not, he's just riding along, shoulders slumped and eyes downcast. Arthur glances round to glare at him again. Merlin hasn't changed position. He catches Percival's eye, whose frowning confusedly and glancing to Gwaine, who's also confused. He glares at both of them and then turns around to ride on, determined not to think about it. 

As they round a corner Camelot appears glistening in the distance, Arthur feels his heart skip a beat. Soon they'll be home and he'll have to make a decision. What to do with Merlin. He halts his horse, staring at the city, it's blemishless white walls and grey turrets. And he thinks of all those with magic who have perished there. Of the pyres and be-headings and hangings, and he glances back to see Merlin slumped over his horse, even his hands are holding the reins close together, like they're bound. He looks more like a condemned man than any of the bandits they are dragging back. A voice like his fathers tells him he can't trust Merlin, that magic is and always will be evil. That Merlin is a liar and a traitor and probably plans to destroy Arthur and Camelot. Arthur shakes his head and urges his horse on. That decision can wait for later. First he must get back to Camelot. 

\---

Except that even when he gets to Camelot he can't make up his mind. His heart pounds as they enter the castle courtyards and as he climbs from his horse. Merlin climbs from his own horse slowly, then walks round to stroke it's mane and pet it's face. He's not looking at Arthur, his eyes look hollow and distant, the stroking of his hand repetitive, a comfort. His horse nuzzles him and for a brief moment there's a hint of a smile, but then he blinks and it falls away. He can't do it, Arthur knows he can't do it. Not now at least.

"Stable the horses, then sort my things and see to my dinner." says Arthur calmly. Merlin seems to take a breath, nods a little, then takes Arthur's horse by the reigns too to lead both to the stables.

Arthur turns to the knights, assigning jobs, sorting out arrangements for the prisoners and the trials. When he's finished Gwaine approaches him.

"Yes, Gwaine?" he asks, because Gwaine looks serious and Gwaine never looks serious.

"Sire, have you and Merlin... have you fought?" Arthur reddens as Percival and Elyan come to join them. 

"Did you turn him down?" ask Percival.

"Did he turn you down?" ask Elyan.

"What? No!" says Arthur feeling more than a little cornered. 

"Don't be stupid, Elyan! Merlin would rather cut his own hand off than say no! That much is obvious! It's not that!" says Gwaine. 

"Merlin and I are not..." Arthur trails off as the meaning of Gwaine's words filters through.

"Not what?" asks Gwaine.

"Not... not together. And we never have been." says Arthur, trying to stop the way his heart is beating wildly at this new found knowledge. It could all be a trick, an act. But he doesn't really believe it. 

"Really?" asks Gwaine in disbelief. "Because I though you two had been together for at least two months." Elyan elbows him roughly and Gwaine throws him a questioning look. 

"I'm glad my private life has provided you with so much entertainment, but I'm afraid it is all of your own imagination and from this point on I would appreciate if you keep such sordid fantasies to yourself!" Arthur realises his voice has risen a little. So he schools it back down to as calm as he can manage.

"Now, you all have duties to attend to, so I would appreciate if you would all get on with them." The knights, heads bowed low in embarrassment skulk away, except Gwaine who braves a glare at Arthur before walking away shaking his head. As they disperse Arthur spots Merlin standing on a small distance away. He's carrying the saddle bags and lowers his head as he walks past Arthur and into the castle. Arthur can't help but turn to watch as he disappears inside.


	8. Chapter 8

Dinner is painful. Arthur really wants to talk, has so many questions he wants to ask Merlin. But Merlin serves him more like a statue than a human. Only moving to serve him food or drink when instructed, his face a painfully held blank. Arthur has never been good with words, it has always been Merlin who forced him to speak. And now an added level of pride tells him not to be the first to speak out.   
But Arthur's also tired. He barely slept last night and he's not really concentrating when he accidentally knocks his goblet of wine onto the floor. Merlin jumps out of his skin, but moves quickly to pick it up and clean the mess. For a moment Arthur sits with his face in his palm. He is tired. So tired. So tired of this, this whole situation. He wants his Merlin back, he wants to know the truth, wants Merlin to explain things to him. Sighing he pushes his chair back and moves to help Merlin. His hand catches the knife on the edge of his plate and it topples over the edge of the table. He hears it clang to the ground beside Merlin. 

"Sorry, I'm sorry, I..." Merlin is knelt, a cloth in his hand, soaked in wine. But Merlin's not moving. He's frozen, completely frozen. The only sign he's alive is a slight flicker in his eyes as he stares in muted horror at the knife on the floor beside him. 

"Merlin?" Asks Arthur, instinctively placing his hand on Merlin's shoulder. Merlin pulls away like Arthur has places hot coals on his shoulder. He's looking at Arthur now, but Arthur doesn't like it. Merlin looks scared, no horrified. He might even be shaking a little. 

"Merlin, calm down. I didn't mean to..." Merlin's face has fallen back into that blank expression which Arthur really doesn't like, and he's turning back to carry on cleaning up the wine. Arthur picks up the Goblet, then the knife and sets them back on the table, then sits himself, back against the table leg as Merlin finishes off.

"I wasn't trying to hurt you. You do realise that, don't you? Merlin?" Arthur asks. Merlin pauses and flicks his eyes up to meet Arthur's. 

"Yes Sire." 

\---

The incident plays on Arthur's mind for days. Days when he forces from his mind the fact that he should be deciding whether to punish Merlin or not. Thoughts of Merlin being beaten fill his eyes with tears, thoughts of executions make him physically sick. And it only occurs to him three days later that Merlin is still here, still silently serving him. Still not knowing his fate. That must explain his strange behaviour. And yet he still feels as if there is something he's missing. He decides to ignore the feeling. If Merlin's change in behaviour is because he's waiting for a summons to the gallows then Arthur thinks he must make up his mind. Either he must pardon Merlin or punish him. Waiting any longer is unfair. 

He's stood by his window as he thinks, watching Merlin walk to the stables, his shoulders slumped miserably. He sees Gwaine call across to him, and frown when he sees Merlin's face. Merlin hurries off and Gwen wanders over, a basket of laundry balance on her hip. He brow is furrowed as she watches Merlin walk into the stables. And then she is chatting to Gwaine, and he knows what they're saying. Because they're both frowning and they're both glancing back at stable. For a moment he wonders if they know his secret, if they too are sorcerers. But he shakes himself. He can't think like that or he'll go mad. Then he wonders what they'd think if he ordered Merlin's execution. Gwaine would yell at him, Gwen would plead with him. Somehow he knows this. He knows they won't care about the magic. He'll break their hearts, break Gaius' heart, upset most of the knights. Everyone will think him a tyrant. And worse, far worse than any of that, he'll hate himself. Because he'll have broken his own heart. Because he knows it, like he knows how to breath, that Merlin means more to him than he's ever dared to admit and losing him would destroy Arthur. As he leans his head against the stone of the window he feels tears pour down his face. But his decision is made. 

\---

When Merlin returns from cleaning the stable he finds Arthur sitting against the table, staring at his own feet. Like usual he doesn't say anything, just heads over to the fire to begin preparing it.

"Merlin. Can you come here a minute." Arthur knows he sounds awkward. He feels awkward. He's not a feelings and emotions guy. But he can't let Merlin suffer any longer. Merlin walks over to him, head lowered, not looking up. 

"Yes sire."

"Merlin, I've come to a decision about... about your... magic."


	9. Chapter 9

"Merlin, I've come to a decision about... about your... magic." It feels so awkward to say that word, to be so open about it. Merlin doesn't say anything, doesn't look up. 

"Merlin, I'm not going to punish you. I can't... I'm sorry it took so long to say so. I... I forgive you." Arthur waits. He expects some kind of reaction. A thank you maybe, a sigh of relief at least. Not the formal, cold

"Thank you, sire" that Merlin mutters, eyes still lowered. Arthur frowns, studying his Manservant. 

"So we're friends again?" asks Arthur awkwardly, cocking his head slightly, attempting to catch Merlin's eye. 

"Yes, sire." Still nothing. Something is definitely not right, and Arthur's heart is pounding. Because this was supposed to make everything right again. Or at least get Merlin talking again, which is normality. He looks around hopelessly and searches his mind. Then it appears in his mind, the cause of all his problems. 

"I'm... I'm sorry about the egg, okay. I really am. I was upset and angry and I shouldn't have crushed it. I'm sorry." This time Merlin does glance up, actually seems to study Arthur for a while, but then glances away again. 

"Yes sire."

"Sire? Merlin... " Arthur wants to pull his own hair out. But he takes a breath instead and decides he needs a drink. He walks over and pours himself a goblet of wine. And then because it seems like a peace offering, he pours one for Merlin. He's done it many times before. He walks back towards Merlin and holds it out. Merlin glances down at it, and the look is... there's only one way to describe it, suspicious. Arthur nods and motions it towards Merlin again. Merlin's head draws back a little, as if Arthur's waving a sword in his face, but then he takes it, holding it a little way from him. 

Arthur watches him carefully. Merlin is looking at him, finally looking and there's a pleading in his eyes. Arthur watches him confused for a moment, but when Merlin doesn't move he shakes himself a little and takes a large gulp of his own wine. Then he rubs his finger against his temple because he doesn't know what to do and something really isn't making any sense. He glances back at Merlin and Merlin has the goblet next his lips, his eyes closed. As if drinking it is a huge effort. 

"Merlin, if you don't want it..." starts Arthur.

"Why are you doing this!" shouts Merlin, slamming the goblet down on the table. Arthur takes a step back. Merlin is furious, but there's something else there too. Fear?

"Doing what?" he asks confused. 

"You know what! Why don't you just chop my head off and get it over with?" 

"Merlin! What... I told you, I'm not punishing you! I'm not executing you!" 

"Then why do you keep trying ... trying to kill me" but Merlin doesn't sound so certain. Or maybe he just sounds more fearful and Arthur's not reassured by either thought. 

"Merlin, what? Is this about the knife? You know that was an accident! It was nowhere near your head! And it was blunt! It was a dinner knife not a dagger!"

"but..." says Merlin, his brow wrinkled in conflict of thought

"Merlin, you know me! I wouldn't kill ANYONE like that! And what, you thought I this was poisoned! That I'd be all forgiveness to your face then kill you like a coward!" Just to prove his point he moves forward until he's inches from Merlin's chest and grabs the goblet that Merlin has slammed down. He takes a large gulp from it and swallows it in one gulp, setting the goblet down again emphatically. Merlin is staring between him and the cup wide-eyed. His breathing is quick and he's given up on trying to school his features back into their expressionless mask. 

"Is that what you think of me?" he asks Merlin when he's calmed a little.

"But you..." Merlin starts. 

"I what? I know I broke the egg, and I'm sorry. I'm more sorry than you'll ever know but..."

"But you tried to kill me!" 

"Merlin, I would never..."

"In the barn! Gwaine interrupted you! You tried to strangle me!"


	10. Chapter 10

Arthur freezes. He wants to hit himself. How could he have been so stupid? He was so selfish, so self centred that he’d never thought how Merlin would see it. Never explained himself. Merlin had woken in the middle of the night, in the pitch black to find hands on his throat. Arthur couldn’t blame him for jumping to conclusions. Then to make things worse he had walked away with barely a word to Merlin, let alone an explanation. After telling Merlin he didn’t know what he would do with him. He wants to be upset that Merlin would believe him capable of such an act, but he can see now that it’s not paranoia, the evidence against him is damning. 

“Merlin... Merlin I wasn’t trying to kill you.”

“Yes you did!” Arthur can see the pain. Can see how much thinking this of Arthur is hurting Merlin. 

“Merlin listen to me, please!” he pauses. Merlin pouts and regards him defensively, suspiciously. But then he nods just a little.

“When I came to the barn, I wasn’t trying to... god it was that Damn egg, Merlin!” Merlin frowns, still watching Arthur. Arthur takes another deep breath as he struggles on.

“I... I was worried okay. I... I broke it and I was so... scared that it had killed you.” He’s trying not to cry at the memory of that night. Merlin’s broken face in front of him as he holds the shattered remains of what could have been his life. 

“I couldn’t sleep because I kept thinking about the curse, and how you... how you might be dying or dead... So I went to the barn to check.” When Arthur works up the courage to glance up at Merlin. He still looks suspicious, on edge.

“Merlin, I was checking your pulse.” He hears one sharp intake of breath.

“Why didn’t you try and wake me?” There’s still reservation in Merlin’s voice, but there’s emotion creeping in that Arthur hasn’t heard in days.

“Because... I’m an idiot. A proud idiot who didn’t want you to know I was so worried about you I got up in the middle of the night to check you were okay.” Arthur’s voice has trailed to a whisper, and he’s struggling not to cry. Merlin’s eyes almost blink a little as he listens, and his chin crinkles. And he watches, like he’s reading Arthur’s mind and Arthur doesn't care, if Merlin can see that he’s telling the truth. But then Merlin straightens a little and says.

“You are an idiot. A real pig headed idiot and I hate you!” with that he pushes past Arthur and walks out of the room.


	11. Chapter 11

Merlin doesn’t talk to Arthur for over a week. Arthur tries to count it as improvement that Merlin’s no longer hiding his emotions from him, but it’s hard to stay positive when Merlin slams plates and bowls around, leaves his armour half polished and only ever answers with a curt, often bitter Yes or No. Or sometimes worse, just a disdaining look.   
One evening Merlin is being particularly difficult, having left Arthur’s bed unmade, despite the fact that the sheets need cleaning. Arthur’s already avoided mentioning it two nights in a row, and he knows now he needs to say something, put his foot down. He hovers by the bed, fiddling with bed covers, watching Merlin try to wear through his boots and the ankle with a boot brush. Eventually he summons up the courage.

“Merlin...” No reply.

“Merlin, my bed needs... Would you mind changing my sheets... before I head to bed?” For a moment there’s just the crackling of fire and the far to aggressive brushing of leather. 

“I’m doing your boots.”

“Yes, I know, but my boots can wait until tomorrow.”

“I’ve already started them.”

“I know Merlin, but I’d really prefer if...” Arthur’s beginning to lose his temper, probably not helped by his tiredness and over a week of sleepless nights thinking about Merlin.

“I’ll change your bedding tomorrow.” replies Merlin without looking up.

“No Merlin! Not tomorrow! You’ll change it now or so help me I’ll...”

“You’ll what!” shouts Merlin, throwing Arthur’s shows at his feet and marching over to where Arthur is standing.

“You’ll hang me? You’ll cut my head off? Or maybe you’ll just sneak up to my room in the middle of the night and throttle me!”

“Merlin...” Arthur’s deflated. 

“I wasn’t, I wouldn’t, you know I wouldn’t...”

“I’m going to bed.” says Merlin, low and bitter. And then he storms out of the room. 

Arthur stands staring at the door swinging where Merlin has just left. It feels like the world has stopped. Or worse, it’s carrying on. And Merlin is carrying on as before. Like there was a tie between them and Merlin has severed the last stand of it, but only Arthur’s bleeding. 

He walks numbly over to where his boots like discarded on the floor. He sits on the bench, picks one up and the brush and starts brushing it. But after only a few moments his has to stop. His vision is blurring, the boot swimming in and out of focus and now he’s crying great tear drops right onto the boot. He drops the boot and the brush and buries his face in his hands. 

A few minutes later the door slams open. Arthur jumps up and turns away from the door out of instinct, hiding his face by leaning against the mantel.   
“Who’s there?” he asks as calmly as he can.

“I’m making your bed, like you told me to.” says Merlin bitterly. Arthur takes a breath, and moves his hands to his hips. He has to bite his lip and clench his eyes tight shut to stop himself from making embarrassing noises as he hears Merlin violently strip the bed behind him. 

“You could at least say thank you.” Says Merlin bitterly, throwing the dirty sheets in the general direction of the door. 

“Th.. Thank you, Merlin.” says Arthur, hating the way his voice betrays him, hitching on Merlin’s name. Merlin behind him seems to pause, but then he’s continuing dressing the bed. Arthur thinks he might be calmer than before, but then he reasons it’s easier to angrily strip a bed than to angrily make it. Then Merlin is pushing past his shoulder violently and Arthur wants to cry, properly cry without trying to hold it in any more. But Merlin’s still here, and he’s not leaving, he’s walked over to the cupboard where Arthur’s bed clothes are kept.

“You don’t need to do that.” says Arthur, and the tears are flowing again now, however much he wills them to stop. And his voice shows it clearly, and he hates it and he wishes Merlin would just go and leave him in peace. Merlin pauses, really pauses. His head drops for a moment and then he’s slowly opening the cupboard door and taking out a shirt. Arthur watches him until he turns around, then looks at his own feet. Then Merlin is shoving his nightshirt into his arms, not roughly though. Arthur glances up. Merlin is looking at him. He looks serious, maybe upset but then again very calm. He’s let go of the night shirt. 

“Goodnight, Sire.” He says with little emotion. Then he’s walking towards the door.

“Merlin, I’m sorry!” sobs Arthur stepping forward. Tears are running down his voice and his voice is high and desperate and he doesn’t care. Merlin pauses, his hand on the door handle. He glances to the side, but doesn’t turn round to face Arthur. 

“I know.” Then he walks out, closing the door behind him.


	12. Chapter 12

Arthur lies awake thinking long into the night. And he realises that the egg was cursed. And Merlin is dead, at least he is to Arthur. And it wasn’t magic, it was Arthur’s own stupidy, a self fulfilling prophecy, which has lead him to this.

He also realises that there is only one thing he can do. And it won’t bring back the Merlin he knows, but it might make Merlin happy again. Or at least content. Arthur cries himself to sleep thinking about it

\---  
He’s woken by Merlin roughly pushing him.

“Wake up.” Arthur feels like waking up feels more like sobering up. Remembering that reality now is that Merlin hates him is like a bucket of cold water every morning. He struggles out of bed, not lifting his head, not looking anywhere near Merlin. He walks mechanically over to where Merlin stands holding a clean shirt, and tugs off his night shirt automatically. 

“You have training in an hour.” Says Merlin curtly.

“Merlin, I...” begins Arthur quietly

“followed by a council meeting.” Continues Merlin, holding out the new shirt until Arthur puts his hands into the arm holes.

“Merlin, please just let me say this.” Begs Arthur mournfully

“You should eat or your breakfast will get cold.” says Merlin matter-of-factly, motioning with his hand. Arthur glances across to the table. It’s his favourite breakfast. For a moment his heart jumps with hope, but when he glances back at Merlin his eyes are stone cold. Arthur’s gaze drops again.

“You don’t... don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“What?” asks Merlin without emotion.

“In my service. If you want to go elsewhere, I won’t stop you.”

“Are you sacking me?” Merlin’s brow is furrowed, and he looks upset.

“No! I just... it’s obvious you don’t... whatever... I’ll write you a reference, I’ll write whatever you want. I can make enquiries...”

“You’re sending me away...” 

“No, Merlin! I couldn’t... Don’t want you to go... but you don’t want to be here, so I won’t make you stay.”

He’s still staring at the floor as he hears Merlin’s footsteps walk away towards the door and he doesn't even try to stop the tears from falling down his face. But then the footsteps are walking back towards him and he’s looking up in confusion. Merlin’s face looks determined and formidable and then all of a sudden his arms are full of Merlin and Merlin’s head is resting against his shoulder. Tentatively he lifts his own arms, after a moment gently placing them around Merlin’s shoulders. Merlin shoves his shoulders forcefully and looks upset and Arthur immediately drops his hands and his lowers his head, although now it’s nearly leaning on Arthur’s shoulder and that’s a nice thought. But then Merlin’s shoving his shoulders lightly again.

“You’re an idiot!” says Merlin seriously, frowning furiously.

“I know.” Mutters Arthur quietly. 

“Please, please don’t leave me.” It’s not even a whisper, more mouthing words as he breaths, but Merlin stills. For a moment all he can hear is Merlin breathing close to him, and all he can see is Merlin’s fingertips rubbing nervous lines up and down on the newly laundered shirt. 

“You really are an idiot!” says Merlin, and then he’s grabbing handfuls of shirt material and pulling Arthur into a forceful kiss.


	13. Chapter 13

For a moment they are frozen like that. Arthur doesn’t think he could move even if he wanted to. And he’s not sure he wants to. His eyebrows have shot up and momentarily his eyes close. But then Merlin’s pulling away a little. He opens his eyes, confused, bewildered. This morning Merlin hated him more than he hated anything and now Merlin has just kissed him, and his hands are only just uncurling from where they’d gripped onto the material of Arthur’s shirt. Arthur’s brow furrows at the speed with which Merlin has changed his mind. But then Merlin is pulling away, and his face is crumpling a little and he’s saying.

“oh god, you don’t... I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to... I’m sorry...” and then he’s turning and bolting for the door. For half a second Arthur’s even more confused and then it’s like every realisation comes at once, or at least a number of pieces fall into place. Merlin is in love with him. The knights had told him that, although it had never fully sunk in. But he’d assumed after everything that any love Merlin had felt had disappeared. But it hadn’t, Merlin was still in love with him. And now Merlin thought that Arthur wasn’t, thought that Arthur was disgusted and turning him away. And the most shockingly obvious realisation, the one which makes Arthur feel like he probably actually is an idiot is that he is in love with Merlin. Because he worries about him all of the time, can’t stand it when Merlin is upset with him, enjoys spending most of his days with him and lastly because right now he wants to try kissing him again. 

Thankfully for Arthur the actual thought took less than a second. So Merlin has only just got his hand on the door handle when Arthur bolts over and slams the door shut. Merlin jumps and he’s still crying a little and shaken and blubbering 

“I’m sorry... I know I’m disgusting and...”

Arthur thinks he’d like to cut Merlin off with a kiss, but he’s not as brave as Merlin, and Merlin is looking so far away to his right and down that the angle would be awkward. Besides, he wants Merlin to know the truth, not just have a tongue shoved down his throat to shut him up

“I don’t think you’re disgusting.”

“But you said...”

“I know. I’m sorry. I was angry and upset. And frankly I’m still a little annoyed at Gwaine for sticking his nose in.” Says Arthur attempting to lighten the mood, grinning a little, edging closer into Merlin’s space, but only a little.

“Working it out before you don’t you mean?” says Merlin quietly, but the grin he gives Arthur is the one Arthur loves. If a little more sheepish, or is it more coy than usual. 

“Shut up Merlin.” He says without meaning it.

“So you’re not upset that I...” asks Merlin, just above a whisper. It doesn’t need to be louder, they’re so close now.

“Upset that you stopped.” Says Arthur, glancing at where his hand is toying with the end of Merlin’s tie. Merlin’s face seems to fall. No, not fall. Become more serious, more intense, his eyes wider. Like there was a small flame behind them and now there’s a roaring fire. So Arthur brings his hands up to frame Merlin’s face tentatively, then kisses him. 

\---

Gwaine will always claim credit when he found out that Arthur and Merlin were lovers. Of course his unsubtle hints had got through to their idiot king eventually. Leon claimed he’d spotted it well before Gwaine, but had been far subtler in his match making. 

And Arthur always said it started with an egg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys have enjoyed this, it's been fun but hard work.
> 
> So I have an idea for a new monster (and when I say monster I mean it). Not wanting to give away too much of the plot, it involves a baby with magic set during Uthers rule. (no mpreg) (probably reveal fic, probably get together fic) (and probably very angsty, but that goes without saying.)

**Author's Note:**

> Warning. I am kinda planning on making this pretty angsty (I don't know why I'm warning you guys, I don't know what else you'd expect from me.)


End file.
